Page 53 of Jax

His smooth, rich voice around my name is like a warm, chocolate coating. I turn toward him, and he motions toward the side where Finn and Leenie are waiting. I limp that way, barely able to stay on my feet. Out of nowhere, Finn produces a bucket and a cloth. Jax forces me on a stool and then crouches in front of me. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into my eyes.

“Hey, girl,” Leenie says, catching my attention. “I don’t want to interfere with anything you’ve got going on here but we kind of have a competition going on. For you, specifically. Well, for you, the Ring, and Elite Boxing. No pressure or anything but we need you to win this.”

I deflate as Jax grasps my upper arms. “Talk to me, Sadie.”

Tears spring forward as I watch Psycho and his girl over Jax’s shoulder. I hear the tone, I see the hard grips. It’s all abuse. All of it. I lived it, and I didn’t see what it was before it was too late. “Do I have to?”

“Come on,” Finn says. “You know you can take her. We showed you a thing or two.”

Jax sighs. “If she wanted to, that girl would be on the floor right now. Trust me.”

Finn hands Jax the cloth, and Jax gently glides it over my forehead while I cringe backward. We must look so ridiculous, her and I. I lean over my legs and stare down into the bucket. We’re both wearing clubbing outfits, not something to get down and dirty to fight in, yet here we fucking are.

The bell rings again, and I realize it’s an app on Jax’s phone. He faces me with thin lips. “Try not to get hurt.”

I stand, and this time, I’m a bit shakier than I was the last. I enter the ring with my hands at my waist like I’m going for a leisurely stroll. “What the hell?” Finn grunts from behind me.

“She doesn’t want to fight her,” Jax explains.

Leenie’s feminine voice pops in next. “Look at her watch those two. She feels bad.”

“No offense, but this is not the time for feelings,” Finn rumbles.

“We’ll win the others,” Jax says confidently.

Others? More fights, I’m guessing.

My heart pings painfully as I realize I’m letting them down. If it had been any other thing, I would’ve done it for them but this feels like something I have to rectify. I can’t take her out. I can’t imagine the hell Psycho will put her through if she loses to me, and I won’t be able to live with myself if he hurts her because of me. Again. Briefly, I catch Lyla’s gaze. She nods at me once, and I know she understands what I’m doing.

We circle each other again. This time, she sizes me up. Her muscles are still bunched, her hands in front of herself. I bet she had no clue that day in the coffee shop that one day she’d be facing me down dressed in tight, faux leather pants and a skimpy top. Sometimes, you get too far into things that you only see what’s right in front of you instead of the bigger picture. It’s the big picture that would make you pause for a moment but you’re just blind to it.

I know for a fact her parents abandoned her when she got pregnant at sixteen. She lost the baby, but she wouldn’t go back to her parents’ afterward either. She stayed on the streets until we came across her. We took her in. We made her feel comfortable with moments that felt like a family but it was all a facade. We’re so good at painting pretty pictures to hide the fuckery underneath. Before she even realized it, she was in the murky waters with no way out. Hell, she might not even realize that she’s stuck here yet.

I’m too consumed by my own thoughts that I miss her lunge. She tackles me to the ground, and I immediately wrap my tired legs around her waist so I can keep some sort of control. If I can stay on her hips, I can keep her from punching me any time she wants. “What the fuck are you doing?” she growls as the yelling and screaming around us comes to a fever pitch. “Fight me.”

“I can’t fight you. I don’t want to.”

“He’s not going to let you leave anyway. You’ll end up back in the room, but if you win, he might let you out.”

“What? So you can end up in the room?” I shake my head, and she groans in frustration as she brings her arm down over my throat. I easily push it away, and I could put her in a lock but I don’t. I stare into her gray green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes go blank for a moment before fury rips through her. She postures up and hits me, my head banging against the concrete. She grabs my shoulders and moves toward my ear as the pain still slices through me. “He takes whatever he wants, and we just have to give. You did that to me.”

Tears sting my eyes. Half from the pain of her punch and half because of my role in her being here.

“You knew what he was going to do to me.”

In the past, I might have made excuses. After all, he doesn’t bring every girl he lures to the storage facility into his bed. Some he brings in for the other guys, and still some others, he uses for various other reasons. But with her, I knew. I could see it on his face from almost the first moment they interacted. He was enamored, and I was only happy to be getting my break. “I’m sorry,” I choke out.

“That’s not good enough!” she roars, and then she rains hammer fists down on me again. She keeps punching me, crack after crack. I spit blood out so I don’t suffocate myself. My whole body is one big painful carcass. Finally, the bell rings. She moves back, spitting on my chest. Psycho moves in on her from behind, throwing his arm around her shoulders, and I see the slight revulsion in her eyes that he’s even touching her but she goes along with it anyway.

Soon, Jax’s face is all I can see through the very small slit in my right eye and the blood in the other. He helps me to my feet and practically carries me to the small stool.

“Jesus,” Finn mumbles.

Jax goes to work. He cleans me off as best he can and then wipes this jelly-like substance over my face. I hurt all over. I’ve been sleeping on concrete for days, so my bones ache deep within. On top of that, I’ve had to endure the abuse from Psycho and now this. I could sleep for days, which is probably why my eyes start drooping.

“Stay awake,” Jax orders. “You can do this. You’ve gone through worse. You just have to go through one more round—or a partial round if she knocks you out first. I would recommend you not let her knock you out. You don’t need a concussion on top of everything else.” He frowns at me, and before I know it, he moves forward with a kiss.

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